


His Heart

by three_coffee_spoons



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 02:03:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18511672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/three_coffee_spoons/pseuds/three_coffee_spoons
Summary: This was based on the song Straight Through My Heart for thefanficfaerie‘s Backstreets Back Challenge (I take no responsibility if you decide to listen to the song and get it stuck in your head)Shout-out to madpanda75 who provided the support I needed to get this story done (especially when I got a paper cut). Thanks for listening to me complain about procrastination, my ill-advised caffeine intake, and my typo-prone monkey brain. We both played chicken with this deadline and came out stronger because of it





	His Heart

The heat wave that currently enveloped New York City had barely been on Rafael’s radar these last few days. Sure, he had made small adjustments to his routine, drinking iced coffee and favouring linen suits, but the near Arctic temperatures of his air-conditioned office and apartment made it possible for him to nearly forget about the muggy New York air.

That is, until tonight, when his air conditioner stopped working. And now, the stifling heat was the only thing on Rafael’s mind, making it nearly impossible for him to fall asleep. Opening all of his windows and turning on his sad little fan did little to combat the subtropical temperature of his apartment; if anything, it may have made it worse.

After tossing and turning for hours, and being too stubborn to admit that getting a good night’s sleep was futile at this point, Rafael drifted off into an uneasy slumber. He felt your lips on his neck moments after his eyes closed.

“I missed you,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck.

Rafael smiled at your words, pulling you closer to him; the heat no longer a concern. You continued kissing his neck, working your way up to his face. When you reached his jawline, Rafael turned his head so your next kiss would land directly on his lips. Rafael felt you smile against his lips and he thought about how lucky he was to be with you. You trailed your fingers down his chest, pausing at the waistband of his boxers and glancing up at him. Before he could nod his assent, a car outside backfired. 

The noise jolted Rafael out of his dream and back into reality. Tangled in his sheets, damp with sweat, Rafael looked around his bedroom. The soft glow from the lights outside made it undeniable that he was very much alone in his bed. He stared up at the ceiling and let out a frustrated sigh.

It had been 239 days since Rafael had fallen in love with you.

239 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes to be more precise.

And they had all been agonizing.

It wasn’t just the constant ache in his chest that made all of this unbearable. No, he had become used to that by now, regarding the feeling as an old friend. It was the fact that the person he loved was the one person who had despised him since he transferred to the Manhattan DA’s office.

Rafael let out another sigh. Whoever equated falling in love with being hit by an arrow had clearly never been in love. The throbbing pain in his chest felt more like the aftermath of a bullet that passed straight through his heart rather than the work of some measly arrow.

The pain had shocked him at first –he never expected to feel this way. His experience with Yelina had closed him off to the possibility of falling in love again. In fact, he had actively tried to avoid it. If it were possible, he would have put his heart in a box, locked the lid, and tossed it into the depths of the Pacific. But then you walked into his life, making the world seem more vibrant, and his resolution gradually diminished until it ceased to exist.

He hadn’t told you any of this, of course. What would be the point? You made your feelings about him very clear. So, rather than acknowledge the gaping hole in his chest, Rafael chose to soldier down and throw himself into his work. Despite working in the same building, he only saw you at monthly meetings or the occasional gala. Sometimes, he would run into you while getting coffee -he would think about these accidental encounters for days.

It appeared to work, this strategy of all work and no love, for a time. However, after the meeting he just had with his boss, Rafael knew this strategy was no longer viable.

Biting the bullet, Rafael strode into your office, secretly relishing the fact he had an excuse to see you.

“Cutter told me to get your advice on one of my cases,” he said in lieu of a greeting before you even had a chance to look up from the files spread out in front of you.

Rafael was never certain what triggered your disdain for him, but he made sure to act as if the feeling were mutual. He matched your caustic quips with his own, feigned boredom whenever he was forced to make small talk with you, and pretended that whatever praise he gave about your performance in court sounded as if it were being pulled out of him.

What no one seemed to notice, however, was how impressed he was by your shrewd quips; how he could listen to you discuss a topic as mundane as the weather and never get bored; how his eyes brightened whenever you walked into a room; how highly he thought of you, not just as a lawyer, but as a person.

In a way, he was glad you hated him. It made it easier.

“Wow, I never thought I’d hear you say you need my help,” you answered, putting your pen down.

“I didn’t phrase it like that.”

“Well, you should phrase it like that or you’ll be on your own,” you said as you leaned back in your chair and smiled smugly.

“Fine, I need your help,” Rafael grumbled. “But just because you’re the only ADA in this office who has experience in corporate law.”

“Hmm, I feel like the wording of your request could have been more complimentary. I won’t push it, though, as I’m already afraid you admitting that you need my help might cause you to spontaneously combust.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “So, you’ll help?”

“Sure, just let me mark in my calendar that today is the day Rafael Barba finally asked someone for help. Hey, what do you think the current rate for a commemorative plaque is? I should probably put one up in my office seeing as this is a historic occasion. How do you feel about the wording, ‘The great Rafael Barba once asked for help in this humble office’?”

Rafael pretended to shake his head in annoyance so you wouldn’t notice the smile threatening to appear on his lips.

When Mike Cutter walked into your office twenty minutes later, he found you and Rafael sitting on your couch, hunched over a police report.

“I’m glad to see you haven’t killed each other,” he greeted. “Especially since McCoy and I just decided to have you work together on this case.”

“What?!” You and Rafael exclaimed in unison.

“Mike, I have the upmost respect for you and Jack, but that is a horrible decision,” you added.

“Barba doesn’t have your experience with corporate law, and it doesn’t make sense for you to take over the case since you need to focus on preparing for the Zeller trial.”

“You do realize that you’ll be out an ADA when one of us murders the other, right?” you muttered.

“Two ADAs,” Rafael corrected. “The other would be stuck doing 30 to life.”

“No,” you shook your head. “The jury would definitely acquit me.”

“Why am I the one getting murdered in this hypothetical, but very plausible, scenario?”

“I think it’s obvious why.”

“It’s non-negotiable. This is a high-profile case that we can’t risk losing,” Mike cut-in, looking pointedly at both of you. “I’m confident that this won’t end in murder. Although, if it does, I do have a large stack of résumés sitting in my office.”

You and Rafael reluctantly assented, not seeing how you could change Mike’s mind. Since you all thought that having a second chair would send the message that the DA’s office was struggling, you agreed to help Barba behind the scenes, providing advice and aiding with trial prep when necessary. Once the details were confirmed, Mike said his goodbyes.

As soon as he was in the hallway, you and Rafael resumed squabbling. Mike chuckled to himself; Rafael might think that no one noticed the way he looked at you, but Mike certainly had. And while there was a good chance that pairing the two of you up on this case would end in murder, he thought it was equally likely to end in romance. His money was on the latter.

A similar conclusion was reached at the precinct later that day when Rafael stopped by to inform Olivia of Cutter’s decision. Even though you had never met Olivia, she had heard of you. The Homicide detectives you worked with spoke highly of you and she often saw your commendations in the paper. You had a reputation as an ADA who radiated quiet strength, who went above and beyond for the victims. You weren’t as theatrical as Rafael in the courtroom, but your track record was equally as impressive.

“You know, for someone you say you don’t like, you sure do talk about them a lot,” Sonny commented, butting into the conversation.

“No one asked you, Carisi,” Rafael scowled.

“Alright, alright,” Sonny held up his hands in mock surrender. “All I’m sayin’ is that when I was eight, I pulled on the ponytail of the girl I liked and called her a boogerhead instead of tellin’ her I liked her.”

“Thank you for that astute insight into the mind of an eight-year-old, detective,” Rafael said, glowering at Sonny until he walked back to his desk.

“He’s right, you know,” Olivia commented once Sonny was out of earshot.

“Carisi? Hardly,” Rafael scoffed in a half-hearted attempt to veil his true feelings.

“Think about it, Rafa. It might be good for you,” she said with a knowing smile.

As the days progressed, you and Rafael fell into an easy truce. The bickering still continued, of course, but it no longer constituted the primary portion of your conversations. Slowly, you became more relaxed around Rafael, allowing your guard to drop a little. In the corner of Rafael’s mind, however, was the ever-present fear that you would uncover his true feelings and reject him (if Carisi had suspected them, then surely you would as well). This never came to fruition, though, as you always seemed too preoccupied with your own thoughts to ever comment on his stolen glances at you or question why his fingers tended to brush against yours whenever he handed you a file. He knew he shouldn’t indulge in these little pleasures, but he couldn’t resist. He would take whatever crumbs he could get.

Olivia’s comment (as well as Carisi’s, much to his dismay) continued to linger in the back of his mind. He might not have to settle for little crumbs if he just told you how he felt -‘might’ being the operative word. These thoughts remained in the background, growing stronger until they bubbled over into the forefront of his mind one night.

“I don’t know,” you answered Rafael’s question of whether you should put the victim on the stand, running a hand through your hair.

You and Rafael were walking down the courthouse steps, having finished an intense trial prep session. The pavement was still wet from a summer storm earlier in the evening.

“What, they didn’t teach you common sense at your inferior law school?” Rafael teased.

You scoffed. “The University of Chicago ranks in the top five law programs in the U.S., but I could see how you would make that mistake –your fancy pants university probably cut the class about how to take your head out of your ass in order to make room for one on being pretentious while drinking scotch.”

“Scotch and The Art of Pretension is actually an undergraduate class,” Rafael smirked.

“Oh, my mistake. Were you able to fit it in your schedule or did it conflict with Yacht Fashion and Etiquette 101?”

You shot Rafael a smile and he felt his heart clench. Would knowing how you felt really be that bad? Even if it ended terribly, he could at least start to move on.

“Why don’t you like me?” He blurted out, catching you off guard. “Ever since we met, you’ve made it clear that you hate me and I don’t know why.”

“I don’t hate you,” you quietly replied, focusing your attention on a small crack in the granite.

“Then what?” Rafael asked, his heart feeling very exposed.

You took a moment to answer as an internal struggle waged between your heart and your head. In the end, your head won.

“You took my coffee.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was the only part that you were willing to give him.

“What?” Rafael’s brow furrowed as he tried to recall the catalyst for your dislike of him.

“We were both at the same coffee shop one morning when you cut in front of me and took my coffee from the counter.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Obviously, I tried,” you gave him a wry smile. “But you were already half out the door and didn’t hear me call your name because you were on the phone.”

“That’s it? That’s why you don’t like me?”

“Wars have been founded on much less,” you shrugged, beginning to walk down the rest of the steps.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I don’t like you?” Rafael called after you, Olivia’s words at the forefront of his mind. If you said yes, he would tell you everything.

His question made you momentarily pause at the bottom of the steps. You glanced at him over your shoulder, a sad smile on your lips.

“Goodnight, Barba,” you said before turning away from him and continuing on your way home.

Rafael remained on the courthouse steps for quite some time after you left, an idea slowly taking root in his mind.


End file.
